


Stiles Stilinski, Writing Off For The Last Time.

by fandomismyship



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bromace - Sciles, Completed, Danny Hacking, Depression, F/M, Mates, Pack Mom Stiles, Past Suicide Attempt, Self-Harm, Suicide, The Jungle (mentions of), Underage Club Going (mentions of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-02 17:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2819585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomismyship/pseuds/fandomismyship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not easy to take your life.<br/>It's not easy to deal with someone taking their own life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Going Now.

Stiles stared at the bottle of pills in his hands, looking over at the others next to it. Most people assumed that it took a few pills to kill you, but they were wrong. The last time, when Stiles had only taken 23, he had survived. His heart rate had gone up, and his he’d felt sick for a while, but, otherwise, he was fine. The hospital had sent him home, saying they’d get him help and he’d be fine eventually. They were wrong. People seemed to be wrong a lot.

That’s how Stiles found himself in his bathroom, his face blank as he turned the tap on, his hands starting to shake. You see, it’s not easy to take your life. It’s not like you can just swallow the pills and be done with it, no. Taking your life required strength; you were forced to fight against every survival instinct in your body. You were forced to think of the people who would have to find your body, have to be stuck with that image in their head years later.

Guilt. Guilt was the worst thing to start feeling in that moment. The tears slowly falling down Stiles cheeks were prove enough. The scream that followed was unexpected, but acceptable. Would Scott be okay? Of course he would… Scott had Allison, he had Isaac, his Mom, his new friends- he had a big family. Scott would be okay. His Dad, what about his Dad? His Dad had Melissa, didn’t he? His Dad would get through it; he wouldn’t start drinking, no. His Dad would be a little happy, of course he would. Stiles had caused his wife’s death after all. The Pack? Well, he wasn’t Pack, so why would they be affected? They wouldn’t.

The honey colored boy grabbed the glass next to the tap, his hand shaking more as he filled it with cold water. “This is the right thing to do,” he reminded himself as the grip on the glass tightened and he nearly placed the glass down. “Come on, stop being so _pathetic_.” The problem was that he was pathetic. He was a pathetic, whiny kid. No wonder people hated him. “ _Stiles just do it_ ,” he snapped at himself as he placed the glass down and opened the pill bottle.

One pill. That was less than most people took on a daily basis. That was about as much as people who could barely go through a day without wanting to die. The boy took another one, still not strong enough to take a handful of the pills. It wasn’t easy to swallow when it came to handfuls, your throat tried to force them back up, tried to force you to stay alive. It was funny how his mind was telling him to die, and yet his body was desperate to stop him from doing it. He guessed his body just couldn't agree with itself.

Death. He’d be happy once he was dead. Right? The boy poured a handful of pills out onto his sweaty palm, looking up into the mirror. Disgusting, that’s what he was. His hair was a mess, his eyes red, his skin pale, the bags under his eyes more noticeable than ever, the moles on his body were hideous, made people laugh at him. He laughed at himself too, why wouldn’t he? He was a fucking joke. A pathetic, weak joke whose punchline was death. Stiles tipped the pills into his mouth, water quickly following and making him want to sob out.

Swallow. _SWALLOW STILES_ , he thought, his hands gripped the side of the sink after he’d place the glass down. The bittersweet taste running down his throat made him gag slightly, his body crying out for him to stop. He wouldn’t stop, not now. Another handful follow after he’d calmed down enough. How many had that been? Stiles hadn’t a clue, so he took another handful. Okay, that one was harder to take, it made him stamp his foot on the ground and sob out once he'd swallowed it. Another handful had him wishing he'd just slit his writs, or hung himself. Even though they were painful ways to do it, he would've had it over easier. One slice and you're gone. One step and you're not long form death. Stupid pills.

A dizzy spell hit him and Stiles moved through to his room as he clutched his forehead, a small sob leaving his lips. Finally he would be free. The boy picked up a pen, moving to the piece of paper he’d left for him to write on. He should’ve done this before, it was too hard to write. He tried to keep it in straight lines, tried to stop the tears smudging the ink, but it was pointless. At least he was doing one last thing like he always did; failing at it.

Once the letter was done, Stiles moved to his bed and lay down. A small smile graced the boys lips as he thought about how this was it. He’d finally be free! No more nights bathing in tears, no more scars appearing onto his pale arms, no more words jabbing into his heart, no more people being pained by his very existence. He wondered who would celebrate his death; probably everyone. They could all finally bury his useless body and be happy that his soul had been dragged down to the depths of hell. He may not be religious, but it was better to think about being stuck in hell than being forced into more blackness and having nothing.

As Stiles took his final breath, the boy finally felt at peace and he knew this had been that right choice. Taking his life may not have been easy, but it was the best thing he had ever done. His body soon lay still, his eyes open, his hands lying on the sides of his chest and a blank expression on his face. Stiles Stilinski was finally dead.

 

* * *

 

 

_Dear people who actually care,_

_I’m sorry that you had to care about a mess like me. None of you deserved to be stuck with a pathetic waste of space like me, you didn’t. I don’t even know the point in writing this, you’ll all be too happy to even try and read this, right? I’m glad I’ll finally make you all happy; it’s all I’ve wanted to do._

_Dad, if I somehow end up in Heaven with Mom , I promise to tell her that you love and that you’re happy now! She might be happy to see me, I doubt it though, I did cause her to die after all._

_Scott, Bro! Make sure to marry Allison, yeah? And don’t cry, because you’re free to be with your new friends now. I know I wasn’t Pack and that just put a distance between you all and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t a good enough brother, even though I’m not your real brother. I promise I’ll see you one day- though, actually, you’ll be going to Heaven, stupid me!! I just made myself laugh, but now I’m crying. I think I need to go now._

_So, this is it, I guess. This is my big goodbye! It’s funny that this is all I’m getting to leave behind, a note. My life has been so pointless, god sake. I’ve brought nothing but pain to you all and now I’m just leaving behind a note. Oh well, it’s time to go now anyways, I’m getting tired._

_Have a good life, yeah?_

_Genim (Stiles) Stilinski, writing off for the last time.  
Goodbye. x_


	2. My Dear Brother.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott finds Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Scott was the first Pack member to find their Pack Moms body, to see him lying in his bed and believing he was sleeping, only to notice the lack of a heart beat and the stench of death in the air. What a scarring smell that would come to be.

“Stiles?” Scott asked, shaking his dead friend’s body, almost disbelieving that _Stiles_ was dead. His mobile was in his hand before he even realised what he was doing. “911, Scott,” he whispered to himself, hands shaking as he blinked back tears. What use was it to just sit there and cry over his friends dead body if he wasn’t willing to try something? Maybe he could be saved!

“Hello?” a voice said on the other end of the line, Scott looking out onto his friend with a tear rolling down his tanned cheek.

“Hello. My- My name is Scott and I think- I think my friend… I think he’s… he’s dead. Or dying. I don’t know, he’s not breathing and there’s no heartbeat and I’m starting to panic now!”

“Okay, Scott, please stay calm for me. I need you to give me every detail you can and I need you to tell me the address and find out how he died, if that is possible.”

Scott did as he was told, looking around the room as he gave the address but coming up with nothing. The boy moved to the bathroom and froze. “His pills are gone,” he said quietly, feeling numb on the inside.

“Could they just have been empty already, Scott?” the kind lady- Scott thinks she said to call her Sarah during him telling her the address. “It’d be helpful for the paramedics to know what they’re dealing with. I’m sorry to ask this of you.”

“It’s… it’s fine,” Scott said, moving back to Stiles, placing a hand on his cold body, trying to draw pain from him that was not there anymore. “I know he had a new prescription yesterday. I think… I…” Scott shook his head and put his arms around Stiles, pulling him to his body as he finally broke, the tears flowing down his cheeks and making his body start to shake. “Wake up,” he begged Stiles, closing his eyes tightly and breathing in what he could of his friends scent from the death stench.

Sure, he could have bitten Stiles, could’ve seen if there was any chance of saving his friend, but he knew two things 1) Stiles had been dead for too long, 2) Stiles did not want to be a werewolf. He’d respect his friends wish to remain human, he’d let him _die human_.

The paramedics came after fifteen minutes, pulling Scott carefully away from Stiles as the boy sobbed, his eyes flashing as he turned away from them, trying not to lose it in front of mere humans who hadn’t a clue of the supernatural threats around them.

Scott didn’t last long standing in Stiles room; he didn’t have much time to wait around as he followed the paramedics out of the house and towards the ambulance. They tried to tell him that only family could come until Scott looked at them with a blank expression and snapped, “he’s my _brother_.”

It wasn’t a lie, to call Stiles his brother, because he was. They may not have the same blood, or share parents, but that didn’t change how long they’d been friends together. It didn’t change the fact that Scott had loved Stiles with every fibre of his body, that he wished he could fight to protect his friend, even after he knew all was done and he had failed.

His wolf howled within him, his Pack bond with Stiles slowly falling apart and finishing what was supposed to be a life long bond of brotherhood.

Stiles was pronounced dead before they even got to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I'll get this updated soon.  
> Sorry it was short, I want to do their reactions as they find out so I can't do much with it.  
> Feel free to comment with any mistakes I've made (didn't have a beta). Also, if you liked it, feel free to say so, hehe.  
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Oh Son Of Mine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect it to hurt this much to write, but I'm about to write this chapter and it already feels painful.

John was in the middle of paperwork when the call came in to ruin his life. The death of his wife had hit him hard, how ever would he cope with yet another death within his heart? The phone call had been short, full of 'I'm sorry's' and 'it'll be okay'. It wasn't like they knew how it felt to lose both your wife and son before you were even gone yourself. Nobody should outlive both.

John hadn't even said more than, "I'm going out," to his staff before he was going out and into his car. This couldn't be real, could it? No, no, not Stiles. It was a joke of some kind- a twisted one at that. His son was probably mucking about and wanting out of a test- or they were wrong, they just got the wrong person and they were going to be in a lot of trouble.

Anger set in as John convinced himself that this was in fact true. The man got out of his car and made his into the Hospital, looking at the receptionist with a small glare. He then felt bad for glaring, it wasn't the brown haired girls fault. "Sheriff," she greeted, looking down at the stacks in her hand and then back up with a sad smile. Why did they always have to smile? "I'll just get the Doctor."

John watched the girl walk off quickly, hating the fake sympathy they felt for him. His son was  _not_ dead! he would come around the corner soon, that cheeky smirk on his face and a quick excuse, not that John would listen to any excuse, oh no, Stiles was in  _big_ trouble now. However, Stiles didn't appear, the Doctor did. The Doctor apologized. The Doctor told him suicide. The Doctor said only suspected. The Doctor, the Doctor, the Doctor... The Doctor wasn't lying.

A man well past his years walked down the white hallways, wishing it didn't look so much like he imagined the light to Heaven did- would his son even make it to Heaven now? Not if certain religious people got their own way. Fists curled as he stared at the body on the table. His son was dead. Dead, dead, Stiles is dead, Stiles is gone, Stiles killed himself, Stiles, Stiles... no more Stiles. No more.

"No," was all John whispered before he felt gravity betray him and the floor move up to connect with his knees. "No, it's not true," was the babble that left his mouth, tears in his eyes as he tried to figure out why he had fallen to the ground. he had always had to be strong for Stiles, even if he had failed with his drinking, he had not been like this in front of him. But what did it matter now? His son was  _dead_.

"You didn't do enough," was the accusation he shouted towards the Doctors, his fists curled up again. "You could have  _saved my son_! You should have done  _more_!" The man felt arms around his neck, he felt one arm move back and a hand wipe at the tears on his cheeks.

"John," was the soft whisper he heard.

"Melissa?" Melissa, the only person who could make any sense out of this mess. "They told me he's dead. I... I saw a body."

Melissa smiled sadly. At least it was because she was actually sad. "I know." John felt a kiss being left on his forehead and he took Melissa's hand in his own shaking one, letting out a shaky breath. "I'm so sorry, John. I wish I could tell you that it was all one big lie, but I would hate to lie to you." John watched Melissa get up and did the same, looking at his son again and shaking his head more.

"It's not fair," he told her, the world, anybody who would listen, really.

"You'll be okay." And he did believe her. How could he not believe Melissa? She had been there through so much. He needed a drink. A nice, cold drink.

Stiles was dead and his demons were back to haunt him yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yip, it hurt.  
> Man, this was a mistake that I love.


	4. Friend of Mine...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison finds out.  
> I suck at Allison.

Scott had phoned Allison from the Hospital, she wasn't really sure who else her boyfriend had told, but she knew that the last thing he needed right now was a shocked girlfriend. She would just have to push her feelings aside for Scott.

Allison just couldn't help the shock she felt, she couldn't believe that _Stiles_ would take his life. The boy had always been so happy, the class clown (or the Pack clown). How could someone so seemingly happy take their own life? It just couldn't process in her mind.

As she got into the Hospital, Allison frowned slightly; she had never really been one for Hospitals, they were horrible. Scott was sat with his mom inside the relatives room, just staring at the ground. "Scott," she said softly, seeing sad puppy dog eyes lift up to meet hers.

"Allison," was the broken whisper she got in reply and she couldn't help but close her eyes for a moment to take a deep breath before she walked over to her boyfriend and placed her arms around the curly haired boy. "He's gone, he is really gone."

"I know, Scott. I'm so sorry." It hurt now, to think that she was never going to see that damn goofy smile. Sure, Stiles and her hadn't been the _closest_ of friends, but that didn't stop her from caring deeply about the boy, it didn't stop her from _caring about the fact he was dead_. "How is John taking it?" she heard herself ask Melissa, looking up to see the woman wipe a tear away from her cheek.

"Not well." It wasn't shocking to Allison that he wouldn't take the death of his son well. Chris hadn't taken her moms death well, not that he'd ever show that. They may have been an arranged marriage, but that didn't stop them from falling in love all the same. "He is... he is in the bathroom right now. I just don't know what I can possibly say to him right now. It's easy enough when it's a patient, you don't usually have your own feelings towards them, but now..." Melissa trialed off with a shake of her head, it was a shame, Melissa was practically Stiles replacement Mom.

Allison held Scott closer, kissing his forehead and closing her eyes as the boy started to cry again, just letting out everything he seemed to be feeling onto her shirt- well, at least it was tears and not blood.

Stiles was dead, and her boyfriend was heartbroken.


	5. Oh Ex-Stalker Of Mine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia finds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He wasn't a stalker but Stiles would want humor in it, come on.  
> This is also before she becomes Banshee. Mainly because I forgot and now it's too late to add her chapter in somewhere else bc I'm lazy.

Allison had called Lydia from the Hospital, had broken down to her about the days events so far- oh. Oh no, no, no. No, this wasn't right. Lydia didn't even bother to listen anymore as the phone dropped from her hand. She knew something had been wrong with Stiles, she had seen the fake smiles and the sad tone underlining his laugh, but she never thought he'd resort to _this_.

Was it her fault? She had known about his depression, she had seen how sad Stiles had been and she had done nothing about it, she hadn't even bothered to ask him how he was each day. She should have made him tell her what was wrong! If only she hadn't have been so selfish.

The girl took her phone back into her hand; Allison must have hung up when she dropped the phone. Her best friend would give her the space she needed. Maybe she needed space from everybody for a while, it's not anybody would want to talk to her if they found out that she knew how Stiles had been feeling.

Lydia knew it was stupid to blame herself- well, there was the proof. Her friend was dead and she was making it all about her now. "Fuck sake Stiles!" Lydia yelled to the air, moving to sit on her bed and clutch her phone to her chest as a tear ran down her cheek, her chest tightening up. "Why? Why couldn't you just have talked to someone..."

Nobody would take this news well, that much Lydia knew. Stiles had been made Pack Mom without him even knowing it. The Pack always went to him for help, they always looked to him for guidance- well, not Derek, but that's because he was technically Pack Dad as the Alpha. Oh, poor Derek, he wouldn't take this well at all. He'd lost so much, and now this. Lydia sighed and lay back, looking up at the ceiling. Maybe if she had agreed to go on one date with Stiles it might have made it better? No, no, leading him on would've broken his heart and made him so much worse.

"If only you had talked," she whispered, turning her head to look at her clock; 9AM. Maybe she could sleep for a while longer. Her make-up was ruined already. She wasn't planning on going anywhere unless called upon. The girl unlocked her phone ('3.14') before opening her texts and typing one out;

_**[To Allison:] I'm sorry for suddenly going there. x** _

_[From Allison:] It's fine. I know you were closer to him recently, take all the time you need. x_

Recently. It was only recently because she was a bitch, wasn't she? She ignored him because he was a nerd. A hypocrite was what she was. Stiles wasn't the only smart one, hell, even she knew she could kick Stiles ass when it came to Maths. Why couldn't she just have reached out to Stiles? They have so little in common and yet no one understood her better than Stiles did.

Oh, sweet, Stiles, now dead. The Pack would suffer through this slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell how much I suck at writing Lydia?


	6. Oh.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson finds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lets see how this goes...

Lydia had been the one to break it to him. Stiles was dead, had  _killed_ himself. To say Jackson was shocked was an understatement. How could someone as happy-go-lucky as Stiles kill himself? Jackson just didn't understand emotions sometimes, he really didn't. If Jackson had known... okay, he probably wouldn't have done more than tell Stiles to grow up and to get his head out of his ass because the boys life wasn't that bad. Apparently Stiles had thought it was that bad.

"How could we let this happen?" he heard Lydia ask him, her voice quiet, losing all of its strength. "We are suppose to protect the Pack members, Jackson."

"Lyds..." Jackson looked at the laptop in front of him and typed in 'Why would someone happy kill themselves?', he needed to understand this himself. A bunch of 'Why People Commit Suicide' pages came up but then- then one on Robin Williams was there and it just  _clicked_. Had sarcasm been Stiles defense? had the boy been happy to make sure nobody knew how he felt? Maybe so he could make others feel happy too? "We did what we could," was the only reply he could give. _  
_

"We did what we could?! No we didn't! We did _nothing_! I'm the only one who noticed..." Lydia's voice trailed off and Jackson felt his heart clench slightly; Lydia was blaming herself.

"Hey," Jackson said, voice uncharacteristically soft. "It wasn't your fault, don't you  _dare_ think that. Do you think Stiles would be happy if you said something like that? He'd probably make some sarcastic ass comment and hit you over the head before telling you to stop being an idiot." That got a sad chuckle out of his girlfriend. "Although it hurts, you can't let it get to you, Lydia, don't let yourself get where he was." A small bit of fear did lay itself in Jackson's heart. What if someone he loved got like that and he didn't notice?

"I'll never be like that."

"Stiles wasn't suppose to be like that," Jackson pointed out, looking out of his bedroom window as he moved to sit on the drawers in front of it. "Stiles was the Class Clown, he was the one who was always cheery. Just promise me you'll speak to me if you ever feel down, okay?"

"Jackson, I'm seriously never go-"

" _Promise me_ , Lydia."

Lydia seemed to understand that Jackson was the most serious he had ever been in his life. "I promise," was her soft reply, Jackson relaxing and running a hand through hair. "I'm going to miss him so much."

"We all are, Lyds."

Stiles was dead and the Pack was missing their Clown.

 


	7. You Are Attractive To Gay Guys.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny finds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously why did I do this? I can't write a majority of these characters.

When Jackson sent him the text, Danny sort of wished the other could have been a bit more sensitive and at least left him it as a voice mail or something.

_[From Jackson] Can't come round, Lyds is upset- Stilinski took his life._

Danny felt a little numb, if he was honest. Sure, Stiles and him were not the  _closest_ of friends, but... well, they had a friendship and nobody liked to see a friend die- let alone  _take their own life_. Danny knew how hard it could be at times, but he was lucky; people at his school weren't bad towards him, he was quite... popular. Even Danny's parents were fine with him being gay, even if it did take some time for them to get to that mindset. Danny guessed he wasn't sure how bad it could be for some kids in High School. Sure, Danny had been bullied in Primary School, had been teased and called names, but High School was so much more cruel. People grew, and with it their cruelty.

Danny recalled the memories he had with Stiles, he remembered playing Lacrosse with him (read: when Coach let Stiles play), he remembered seeing Stiles sneaking into The Jungle and dancing with him from time to time, he remembered Stiles always going on about wanting someone- or being attractive to gay guys. Then there was when 'Cousin Miguel'. It hadn't taken long for Danny to find out who he  _actually_   was; Derek Hale. There was something between Derek and Stiles, Danny had discovered soon after that. Whenever the two were in a room together, even Danny could feel the sexual tension between them. But had they ever done anything about it? Danny was unsure.

After a moment or two of thought, Danny opened his laptop and worked his magic, fingers running along the keys in a sweet rhythm. Danny just had to see it for himself, he had to see that Stiles was _actually_  dead. What if he hadn't actually taken his life? That would be better. Anything would be better than this- even a car crash where his body had been cut up into pieces, that would not leave so many questions. Danny kept typing, kept hoping when it popped up;

_Stilinski, Stiles. 17 years._

_Cause of Death; Overdose (Citalopram)._

Danny stared at the screen, wishing he hadn't let his curiosity win. So, it was true. Fully true. Stiles had really actually taken his life. Some part of Danny had hoped that his bestfriend had just been a dick and was trying to make Danny pay for something he couldn't remember doing. Why? Why... why, why why! Why would someone who had  _so much_ love around them just take their life like that. Had they not appreciated Stiles enough? Had the honey eyed boy felt like he wasn't important? Danny dreaded the thought. They could've- no, should've done more. It wasn't right for anybody to take their life, but Stiles? it was downright crazy.

With a few more taps, Danny moved to fix all the mistakes within Stiles reports, within his drivers status- everything and anything that might have made him want to take his won life. It was too late now, true, but he just needed to do something, anything. He just needed not to think about Stiles and his death.

Yes, Stiles, you were attractive to gay guys. Now you're just dead.


	8. Oh Pack Mom.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac's reaction.  
> I'm hoping this will turn out better.

Danny had phoned Isaac to talk about Stiles death, as if the Beta knew. he didn't. Isaac hadn't had a clue that Stiles was dead. It did explain the sharp pain he felt in his heart earlier in the day. This was all wrong. Stiles was the Pack Mom, how could he kill himself? Stiles was meant to be there for the rest of the Pack, he was meant to protect them.

When Danny had told him, Isaac had dropped the phone. He didn't want to hear about how his  _Pack Mom_ had died, he didn't want to hear how Stiles had taken his own life because he was so unhappy. How could Isaac bear to look himself in the mirror if he knew he contributed to Stiles death? He had, hadn't he? Isaac just couldn't process it. Stiles was happy, wasn't he? He had to have been, the other boy hadn't smelt of sorrow and pain. Sure, for a while he did, but that was around the time the Anniversary of his Mom's death had been there. That was normal. It was normal. Stiles being dead wasn't normal, it was not fair and completely out of line to have ever happened in the first place.

_[From Danny] Isaac, are you okay? Come on. I'm sorry, I thought you knew._

_[To Crush] It's not like it's your fault that he took his life. Is it?_

_[From Danny] I still should've checked that you knew..._

_[To Crush] It's okay, Danny. I am promise._

_[To Danny Want me to come over?_

_[To Crush] I need some time alone._

_[From Danny] I'm here for you._

_[To Crush] I know._

And Isaac did, he knew that the whole Pack was there for him. Why hadn't Stiles known that? Surely he didn't think this is what they wanted to happen, that they'd all be partying and happy now that their Pack Mom was dead. Isaac wasn't sure who else knew about Stiles being their Pack Mom. They would all feel what Isaac did, but most wouldn't know how to set it in their minds- especially those who were human.

Stiles had always been there for all of them, he was who they went to when they needed someone. The honey-eyed boy could calm any of them with just his scent- even Derek. Well, it wasn't a shock that his scent calmed Derek, given they were Mates it was just a given.

Isaac felt a wave of numbness hit him and he pulled his phone out, staring at the screen before swiping it open. Once Isaac was on his texts, he clicked 'Pack Mom'.

_[To Pack Mom] This is stupid, isn't it? I mean, you're never going to see this. I don't even know if anybody will ever see this. I guess I just need you right now. I need you so bad, Stiles. You're who I would've gone to for comfort with something like this. Now where have you left me? Where have you left all of us? It was selfish, you know. Okay, so I don't really mean that but right now it feels that way. You just left us here, sad and miserable. What am I going to do without you? I can't do anything without you. Please come back to me, Stiles. Don't make me lose more people after everybody we've already lost. Please._

Isaac knew when he sent the text that it would do no good, Stiles was gone and that was that.


	9. Oh Mate.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek finds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will hurt me.

Derek had felt it the moment it had happened. A sharp pain had run through his body and he knew something bad had happened. The only question is; what had happened? Someone was hurt, or... no, no. Nobody could be dead. There was no big threat, no reason for anybody to die. Natural causes? They just didn't happen to his Pack. There was no question in his mind that it could be a death.

Derek had checked with all his Pack members, hearing small cries and smelling the stench of sorrow in the air. What the hell was going on? Something bad had to have happened, there is no way people were this sad over nothing. Derek kept going, not finding Scott and feeling a small pit of panic in his stomach- Stiles. Stiles would know. Stiles always knew. Stiles was the smart one, even though Lydia was smarter, Stiles was better with people.

When Derek arrived at Stiles he smelt it. The stench of death was in the air, almost suffocating the house. Was the Sheriff okay? Stiles wouldn't cope well with losing another parent, it wouldn't be fair. Derek knew how it felt to lose your family, to be left with nothing. Sure, he had his Uncle left, but he could barely stand the psycho now. Stiles was too sweet to lose the rest of his blood family. It's not like he wouldn't have a family- he would still have the Pack. They would always be his family and they would always love him. Derek loved him, lots... more than he could ever tell Stiles.

Entering the house was not pleasant. The stench of unwashed death invaded his nostrils and nearly made him back away, but he couldn't. He needed to know what had happened. "Stiles?" he called out into the quietness of the air, getting no reply and slowly walking up the stairs. The smell only continued to get stronger and Derek felt his heart drop into his chest as he realized where the smell was coming from; Stiles room. The man walked slower, almost afraid to face up to losing yet another person. The handle felt cold, it shouldn't be cold that soon "Stiles?" a quiet voice asked before he walked in and nearly buckled under the smell.

No.

No, this was not right. Stiles was not dead. Stiles could  _not_ be dead. Derek walked further into the room, looking around but finding nothing. The man moved to Stiles bed, noticing a piece of paper lying on the floor next to the boys bed and picking it up. Words that should not be written were there in Stiles handwriting, a scribble of words Derek had come to love. What the hell? Why would Stiles think anybody would be  _happy_ with his suic- death. His death. The whole Pack loved Stiles more than they loved one another, it was impossible not to get infected by the bundle of ADHD that was Stiles Stilinski. Of course the boy would only care that they were happy, and that he'd tell Scott to marry Allison. As if Scott wouldn't marry his own Mate. Stiles seemed to think his life had been pointless, but he was wrong. The boy had touched so many peoples hearts, had made their life's so much better. Derek wasn't even sure how he would be now if Stiles had not come along. Happiness wouldn't be the thing Derek had felt for months if it had not been for that crazy boy coming in and forcing him to feel that happiness once more.

What was the first word  that came to Derek's mind when thinking of Stiles? Mate. That was what Stiles was to him. The tears were falling now, Derek could feel them on his cheeks, warm and unwelcome. There wasn't even a small note for him. why would there be? Derek wasn't anything important to Stiles. He was 'Sourwolf', the wolf that hit Stiles head off a steering wheel back when they first met. Derek had thought they'd gotten closer when training, when sitting for hours on end in each others company and just reading. Apparently, Derek was wrong, as ever. If only Derek had told Stiles, maybe the boy would have known he was loved and he would never have done this- he would never have taken his own life.

The wolf within him shifted uncomfortably, feeling the lose of his Mate hard now and a howl left the mans lips, closely followed by three new text messages. Derek didn't check them, he didn't want to. What was the use of them now? It wouldn't be Stiles telling him this was some horrid joke, or that he had been kidnapped and the idiots who dared risk his Mates life had merely left a note so that nobody would come looking for them. No. This was for real and it wasn't Stiles texting him. Stiles would never text him again. He'd never get stupid messages in the morning telling him to have a good day and not to tear anybodies throats out with his teeth. The ever caring Stiles.

A numbness Derek had felt for years set over him and he settled back against the bed, lying down and holding the note to his chest. The scent of death was overpowered by the scent on his Mate still on the covers, still on the pillow. Derek buried his head in the pillow, not caring how weird it would look if someone were to walk in now and he just inhaled the scent. Stiles scent had always been able to calm him down, had always pulled him out of any bad mindset he may have been spiraling towards. Derek closed his eyes tightly and let the scent overpower everything else.

Derek imagined Stiles was next to him and that they were sitting talking, both quiet and trying not to be caught by the Sheriff. He imagined leaning forward and kissing Stiles softly, the tears on his face making him think of Stiles holding onto his face. He imagined making love for the first time, the way Stiles would laugh in the middle of it, tell Derek how happy he was and how much he loved him before Derek would growl and kiss the boy hard. Derek imagined moving with Stiles, both of them taking forever to unpack when the boy kept deciding it was time for kisses, sex, pizza or all of them at once. The man imagined asking Stiles to marry him, saying I do, getting kids, growing old together, dying together... A chocked sob left Derek's lips as he imagined all the times that would never have and he soon fell asleep, the scent of Stiles invading his dreams.

"Goodnight, Stiles," was the last whisper said into the dead boys pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouch.  
> My arms hurt, I'm sleepy. Excuse any mistakes, this is unbeta-ed.  
> But that's it!  
> Hope you enjoyed it. I didn't enjoy writing it much. :')  
> Bye!<3

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment and kudos! Any feed back is appreciated. :)


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